The Velveteen Beetle
by Msynergy
Summary: A collegebound Lydia wonders why her best friend has been avoiding her, and how can it all be connected with an old book about a rabbit? BJLyds
1. Chapter 1

The Velveteen Beetle

Disclaimer: Um, none of it belongs to me, not the cartoon or the book.

A/N: I must be certifiably insane. But color me Looney Tunes, the show I watched so many years ago has again somehow sparked my interest, and made me stop to take notice and ponder. Anywho, make what you will of it, love it, hate it, don't care, just had to get it out of my system. Also, I've tried to do my homework but since it's been a long time since I saw any of the actual episodes and so I beg pardon to all you die-hard fans out there if I screw up royally on anything. Too, take note this is my take on a possible outcome of the whole "Lydia Growing Up and Out of the House" topic and that I do support the BJ/Lyds pairing so you can practically guess the outcome of this story. –insert sheepish smile-

"LLLLLLLYYYYYDDDDDIIIIIAAAA!"

"Lydia honey, please, we've got to get to the store now if we're ever going to get what you need!"

The raven-haired graduate sighed, practically visualizing her father's blood pressure rising along with the pitch of his stress-strained voice. The man really did need to just take a deep breath and chill one of these days. However, minding her parents' calls and reluctantly rising from her still cobweb styled comforter, Lydia couldn't help but find that the grip of despair that was slowly squeezing her heart tightened that much more at the sight of her room.

As dimly lit as always, what little light hit normally could be found neatly tucked away in seemingly increasing stacks of brown boxes, all labeled accordingly and with the same shipping address. Her college. The school she'd be going to at the end of the summer, said end only a mere two weeks away. And it would have been a momentous even extraordinarily happy time for Lydia, to be finally leaving the house, to have at last gained her full-freedom, to run off into the sunset with her dreams as her only guide, if not for one person.

That one certain person, who, she would bitterly admit, had not spoken nor had any contact whatsoever with her for the majority of the summer. That same person being her best friend, who appeared to care less that she would be leaving in two weeks, and whose face she had come to miss like she would a hand or a foot. Because life just wasn't the same without him. But did he even care about that? How much she missed and had missed him? Surely even he wasn't that heartless. She would know too, she'd only known him since her pre-teen years, and now was nearing nearly two decades into life. Anything there was to know about him she knew…surely he was missing her as much as she was him? Right?

"Lydia now!"

Sighing a final time, resigning her mind's haunting questions for another time, Lydia shouted back.

"I'm coming alright? Geez, where's the fire?"

Running a hurried hand through her now waist length hair, grabbing her purse, and jumping into her once abandoned shoes on the way out of her room, however, the girl-going-on-woman slammed the door in her haste, never noticing the once concealed, obviously rosy color-covered book fall from one of her still occupied books shelves.

Packing up her old dusty volumes had been only one of the many things on the Deetz's To-Do-List since Lydia had been accepted to her choice school, and was one of the many things that had been awfully neglected in getting done along with everything else.

But this book was unlike any of her others, and not just because of its cover.

Its illustrations and title depicting the pinkest and reddest tints of flora, just the cover itself boast of fairies and princesses, with the exception of the worn white-spotted rabbit in the center.

But no sooner had the book fallen to the floor, had the oval mirror of Lydia's dresser set begun to warp uncomfortably and inexplicably so.

Stopping its strange motions as soon as it'd begun, however, a lone not to mention striped occupant now stood in the center of the nearly stripped bare room.

Clad in large pin-stripes from head to toe, black pointed boots, a collared purple shirt and loosened black tie to match; his green crooked teeth were hid in a most forlorn look and his large green eyes downcast and cloudy with emotion.

Red-tipped fingers stuffed obviously in his pant pockets, his shoulders equally carelessly hunched, to say that this blue-tint-skinned man was anything but what he was would have hit more on the mark.

Already wild blonde hair appearing even more frazzled then usual, adding to his all together pitiful and melancholy demeanor, it couldn't have been more obvious; Beetlejuice was not himself, not in the slightest.

At last seeming to take notice of the drastic changes to his surroundings, the ghoul started slightly, apparently surprised at the change before again returning to his previous state of indifference.

He wasn't going to stay long, that much he knew…until he noticed a certain pink book.

A/N: Dun dun dun! Well, not really. :P Wanna know what 'ole BJ finds? And what's bothering him anyway to keep him for Lyds for so long? Figured it out already? Review and all will be revealed :)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: Amazingly somehow procured, I give you Chapter 2! P.S. There's a lovely quote from an awesome eighties song that is incorporated in this here script, a hundred points and a cookie if you can tell me what song it's from and who sung it :P Happy reading!

For perhaps one of the first times in Beetlejuice's life, the ghoul hesitated.

In any normal situation, at any normal time, or whatever time was considered normal in his case, he would've immediately picked the book up and thumbed through its pages, ignoring any protests his best friend might have at his rude intrusion of her things.

But his best friend, if he had any right to call her that anymore, was for once no where in sight, leaving him wholly alone.

The book appeared to mock him, too, its obviously childish cover snickering at his utter lack of complacency, his actual resistance to his always insatiable curiosity. Scoffing at him and the fact that he hadn't even reached for it yet, let alone cracked its worn spine; a trait almost just as abnormal in his character as he was.

Because it was indeed strange, that he of all creatures would respect the privacy of anything, Lydia, special though she was, often more than not included.

But that was just the problem wasn't it? She was gone and he while should feel the safest in snooping around because of her absence, he didn't. Because soon, she wouldn't be around much at all.

And it was those kinds of thoughts that plagued him everywhere he went; gave him nightmares -and not the good kind- at night. Even then the insistent whisperings of uncertainty within clawed at him, telling him, reminding him that her leaving was and had always been the inevitable. And it was with bitter acknowledgement that he'd finally started to resign himself to her growing up and graduating from Ms. Shannon's, and from then on his complete evasion of her had begun.

He hadn't wanted to; if anything he'd wanted to do the exact opposite. To take her in his arms and make her promise that she wouldn't leave him, to not cast him aside like some old toy from her teens. But he'd done no such thing, and in the end he wondered if he'd only made himself suffer more for it. Because being away from her had and was slowly driving him insane.

And then the questions would come, flooding, crowding his already weary conscious, or what was left of it anyway.

_Why do you think so of her Beetlejuice? Is it perhaps because of your true feelings finally shining through? Is the thought of losing her the straw that has finally broken the proverbial camel's back?_

He knew the answers too, knew the answers to each and every one. But to unearth what he managed to keep buried down for years, to put all of his cards on the table, with no ace up his sleeve to save him? It wasn't just the possibility of losing the hand that scared him, it was a helluva lot more complicated than that, and he knew it. Oh God how he knew it.

Because, either way it panned out, no matter how happy he could be with the one outcome, or how crushed he could be with the other, one thing would still remain. He could never be selfish when it came to her, and that alone would be what would make him turn her down, even if by some twist of fate she even appeared to reciprocate his feelings.

Which was why, despite the misery it inflicted, it was better if he was the one to sever their ties, completely, forever, no matter how much pain it caused him to do so.

He loved her too much not to.

She had a life to live after all, and he couldn't begrudge her that that had ended for him some six-hundred years prior. Besides, what had he to give her, besides devastatingly disastrous looks and his un-beating heart? What could he, a lowly, ill-reputed ghost with a rather peculiar display of parlor tricks have to offer her?

Nothing that was what. And she would see that someday he knew, when she met someone new, alive and forgot all about him, if she hadn't already. He was sure of it, even though he also knew the same would never be said for himself. No doubt he would simply return to the after-life he knew before he knew her, as incredibly forsaken as it sounded. Sure, his after-life had never been boring, but never had he had anything to compare it to either.

Time, Beetlejuice thought, all he needed was time. And luckily for him, time was one thing he had plenty of.

Suddenly reminded to check his watch, however, the ghoul sighed with relief in the fact that he still had a half an' hour or so to spare before Lydia arrived back home. He'd come only to see what remained of her room, her world, before leaving for good, perhaps even to find some little piece of solace, comfort in the one place in the mortal world he felt most at peace, at home. But then, it never had been the room that had made it home to begin with, only one person could make it do that. And she soon was to be leaving, gone, for good.

Green eyes cast downward; a haggard sigh escaping his lips, Beetlejuice then again looked to the rose colored book on the floor before him, its presence blinding obvious in a room painted, lighted so dark.

"What the hell," he mumbled, at last reaching to pick the book up from its resting place.

One last insight into his Lydia's mind wouldn't hurt, he thought to himself, knowing very well it could and probably would.

Pressing on anyway, the red tips of his fingers eased open the thin spine to the book's first page, his eyes for the first time noticing the actual title of the tome.

"The Velveteen Rabbit," he spoke out loud, letting the name sink in.

Turning the page, however, Beetlejuice, who had never been one much for reading to begin with, became entranced.

It was unique, this story, telling of a tale only a child would believe, but entirely plausible for any adult to perceive. It told, of course, of a velveteen rabbit, of nursery magic, of being "Real" and what it means.

When the tale was done, however, BJ started, suddenly realizing just how "Real" he too had become. And all because of her, his soul hummed.

Fluent cursive catching his eyes, however, on the back of the book after its last page, the ghost started to find, a message for a certain little girl from a woman much more aged.

_Dearest Lydia,_ –it read- _my lovely babe, may you always believe in "Real" and all it means. Love, Mommy_

Beetlejuice choked, needles seeming to prick at his eyes as he struggled to cope. Her real mother of all people, to give her this book, if only she knew, if only she knew just how much her advice to Lydia had took.

Closing its spine, much more reverently than before, the pin-striped dead man shook, literally shook in the vastness of his pain.

How could he leave her now? How could he never see, be near that light that was she?

Placing the book on her bed, however, the ghost knew his final decisions were set. And turning to her mirror, Beetlejuice hadn't started to take but one step-

"BJ?"

He froze, his magic for once not turning him into a Beetle-sicle but instead, for once allowed for what normalcy he had.

But that was the least of his worries, he knew, because there was now a crying Lydia in his arms, and Beetlejuice found he was crying too.

A/N: Whew! Dontcha love emotional scenes? Obviously I do. :) Anywho, I know probably knocked BJ's character completely off kilter, but c'mon, wouldn't you be hurtin' if you were him? Either way, though, this is my story and if that means taking some liberties with emotional reactions so be it, make what you will of it. Anyway, reviews as always are welcomed, flames ignored and helpful criticism graciously accepted. Thank you and good night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: Suffering seriously from the writer's jetlag called reality; this chapter was slow in coming. My apologies, hopefully it was worth the wait. Enjoy.

He felt real, she thought, holding him close, her tears continuing to flow.

But he also felt surprisingly thin, and judging by his more than usually pungent aroma, was much more unkempt than he normally was.

But then, how would she know? It wasn't like she'd been around to know…

Lydia jerked, roughly detangling their somehow unintentionally intimate embrace, wiping at her reddened eyes and turning from him, her gaze ingrained on her bedroom door.

She wouldn't look at his face; she wouldn't see the tears she knew still fell from his own eyes, she was angry at him damn it! She was angry, and she had every reason to be.

But if that was the case, then why did she so desperately want to return to the amazingly safe circle of his arms, where she'd felt most at peace in years?

She wasn't supposed to have so many doubts, so many uncertainities. He'd left her, left her at the exact time when her life was at its most turmoil time of change, when she'd needed him most, when she'd needed a friend, her best friend.

"Babes…"

And he'd said it. Said it all in that one little name, that one little endearment he could never shake from associating with her. He'd never called anyone but her that, as far as she knew, and never had she ever heard it spoken from his lips with such feeling, such anguish.

Was that it? What she felt from him? Anguish? Good. He deserved every bit that what little was left of his conscious forced on him. She would not yield, not become again the blubbering mess in his embrace she was at seeing him for the first time in months. She was not a little girl anymore, and her emotions could no longer be swayed at the drop of a hat and a show-stopping side-splitting performance on his part. That was then, this was now.

"Beetlejuice," she started, her back turned, though she could still feel him flinch at his name, his full one, and the cold tone she'd put behind it, "why are you here?"

It was a simple question, and a simple answer would suffice, but for the lack of life of him the ghoul couldn't seem to find such an answer.

And after several minutes, not moments, of silence, what little patience Lydia had was wearing incredibly thin.

"I'm waiting Beetlejuice," she finally spoke, the threat of what would happen behind saying his full name a second time clear to them both.

He had to think, fast, if he stood any chance of standing there for more than a few extra minutes.

"Lyds, Babes, I know that you're angry-"

"Damn straight," she scoffed.

Obviously momentarily surprised by her outburst, or maybe just the fact that he'd forgotten that she wasn't twelve anymore and swore when the situation called for it, she heard Beetlejuice only sigh, and then continue.

"And, I know that ya got every right to be mad at me. But why I wasn't here these past few months-"

"Yes, tell me BJ," she spat out, acid dripping off her tongue at saying his own nickname, knowing she would have to call him back if she again used his full name if she wanted to finish her sentence, a thing she really didn't have the patience anymore for.

Going shopping with a mother like hers for several hours, only to come home and be emotionally rocked to the core by the sudden appearance of a practically long lost best friend, was needless to say, a lot more than most girls could handle. And while she definitely wasn't most girls, Lydia knew she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't feeling the strain.

Truth be told, she was liable to snap any moment, and if she did, the consequences wouldn't be good for anybody, not Beetlejuice, and especially not her.

Apparently, however, BJ had overcome the latest verbal abuse brought down on him by her, and was talking still.

"-Neitherworld knows I ain't the best when it comes to apologizin', but Babes you've gotta believe me, I never meant to-" his voice suddenly broke, and he ended in barely above a whisper, "-to hurt you."

But if anything, her fury was only fanned that much more at his confession. She had to stay that way too, had to stay angry, as the only remaining emotion to run with in her arsenal was her utter joy, relief at seeing him again, being with him again, and Beetlejuice would have to earn that response from her if she had anything to say about it.

"'Never meant to hurt me'? BJ, how can you say such a thing when you know that what you did is exactly what did hurt me? Did you ever happen to think too of just how worried, not just hurt I was when you stopped showing? How was I to know the difference if you'd gone and finally gotten yourself eaten by a Sandworm? Obviously I couldn't go and see you myself as you made it clear to me that you didn't want anything to do with my company, so what was I supposed to do? You tell me BJ, what was I supposed to do? Just go on with my life as if our friendship had never been? As if all the stuff we've been through together meant nothing to either of us? Tell me BJ! You're the 'Ghost with the Most', you tell me!"

She was screaming now, but Lydia also knew that she could've cared less if her parents had happened to walk in at that precise moment asking what was wrong. She really didn't care anymore. She was facing him again, and was piercing her eyes with his, demanding his answer.

Because if he couldn't answer, their relationship to her was as good as over to her as it apparently had been to him over the past several months.

What she hadn't expected, however, was his own anger.

Never had she seen his green eyes so clouded with such passion of emotion, and to be completely honest, is scared her.

She'd never seen him like this, not ever. He was as unpredictable as a lighting-strike to her now, and if it weren't for her resolve to maintain eye-contact with him she might have been concerned for her own well-being.

But such thoughts had been pushed to the farthest reaches of her mind, and all she could do now was wait, watch for signs of his next move and act accordingly.

But what his next move was, she'd never seen coming, and still hadn't even as his lips had come crashing down on hers.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N: Well, this is it folks, the accumulation and resolution of the past three chapters right here. Just wanted to send a shout-out to all you wonderful reviewers out there, for your encouragement, enthusiasm, and whatever else, as it all truly kept me writing and updating this piece. So thanks again, and enjoy.

It didn't take her long, however, to respond with the same, if not with even possibly more ardor, to him.

She'd been kissed before, she wouldn't lie, but there was being kissed, and then this – being kissed by him. And the two were in entirely different ballparks.

But just as quickly as it'd begun, it had ended, and the now obviously more closely- located ghoul jerked away as suddenly as she had from him not an hour prior.

And it had struck her.

What she had seen in his eyes had not been anger, but lust, insurmountable and uncontrollable passion of a completely consuming sort.

He loved her.

After all this time, he had come to learn to not just love, but apparently had been in love with her for some time. And if that kiss, that breathtakingly fiery connection that still left her lips tingling and her blood racing, had anything to say about it, that love had been burning in him, like time would a fine wine, slowly with each passing year growing more rich and refined than before.

And to think that that love was all for her taking or breaking brought tears to her eyes. For now she finally understood.

Her best friend, the one person she cared about most, had been living in his own personal hell for those lost months, torn in two between his own feelings and his just as powerful desire to be only and always the friend she needed, not the lover she wanted.

Staying away he must have thought was the only way, his only choice. Now it was her turn to show him that he didn't have to make that choice.

Because as twistingly morbid as it sounded, she too had fallen in love, without her ever realizing it, for a dead man, and a ghoul no less.

Her only problem was, however, was how to go about saying it without Beetlejuice at most-times-hidden morals popping up and leaving him to apologize for his apparently rash decision and leave for good?

"BJ?"

God, since when had her voice ever sounded so small? Not for years, that much was certain.

But the pin-stripped ghost continued to refuse to look at her, a sense of tables turned and déjà vu rushing over Lydia.

They really were a lot alike in that respect; the both knew how to perfectly ignore each other.

Taking a step towards him, however, Lydia then for the first time noticed the book to be found on the side of her bed were she'd found him standing.

She recognized it instantly. It had only been one of her favorite kid's books since forever after all.

Moving beside him, choosing to ignore how he tensed at her close proximity, Lydia carefully picked up the tome and held it in her hands, looking imploringly at his downcast face, hidden somewhat by his blonde hair.

"Did you read this BJ?"

A slight grin she noticed crossing his face, a great improvement of mood and a chance to hope more than anything to her, Beetlejuice finally raised his head to look at her.

"Cover to cover Babes," he smiled sheepishly.

The cat that swallowed the canary, Lydia thought, knowing a knowing smirk was making its way across her own features.

But just as fast as cheer had once again started to reign supreme on Beetlejuice's face, it was overthrown by a somber reality once more.

And again he broke from her gaze, his eyes again on the floor.

"It made me think Lydia, made me really think," he said softly.

"About time something did," she said back. Perhaps like most things in their past humor would help settle their situation. But, Lydia knew, the only way to settle anything now between them was to admit feelings that would be too hard to simply reveal.

Chuckling at her wise-ass retort all the same, Beetlejuice pushed onward.

"I can tell why you would like it so much too. Nursery magic and being Real, and all that jazz. But, what I really mean to say is-is…"

Again he stopped himself short. Either too afraid to say what he had to say or just plain afraid. And she had to admit, she was a little scared herself. They were walking into unknown territory, and Lydia knew she could only hope that his being there with her would be enough. But then, when had it never been anything but enough?

"BJ," she said it quietly, softly, tenderly, and it sent his eyes shooting up to meet hers, obviously curious as to her change of tone.

"BJ," she began again, "what just happened between us, please don't think that it's so completely one-sided. I've always known that what we have is special, unique, and to take it that one step further is only natural."

"But?"

Lydia smiled; leave it to Beetlejuice to think that there's a catch to everything. But then, with him, many times there was.

"But nothing, BJ. If what I'm feeling can even measure up to how you feel, I think 'we' do stand a shot."

He was gaping now, jaw to the floor, and the whole bit, and it took all she had not to laugh at the sight.

Recovering quickly, however, he suddenly had her by arms, his eyes penetrating hers, looking for any doubts over her decision.

"You're sure?" he asked, if only to further confirm what he saw in her gaze.

Managing to free her limbs from his grasp, Lydia neatly tucked them around his waist with a smile, the smile becoming a grin at his wide-eyed reaction.

Coming within inches of his face, his lips, however, she whispered her answer.

"Dead sure."

And sealed her confirmation with a kiss.


End file.
